Vindsval Of Heathen Blood and Soil ... AS GJALLAR CALLS FOR RAGNARØK When blackness closes upon the plains of Midgard And aeons suffocate under the mists of chill The unleashed wrath of Surtur turns against Asgard And the disciples of Wotan are longing to kill When the cold, eternal night devours the sun When Yggdrasil will die under a bloodred moon The amalgamation of the skies has begun And the awaited Twilight Of Gods will come soon ... As Gjallar calls for Ragnarøk ... As Gjallar calls for Ragnarøk From the deepest woods crawl howling hordes of black hell-brood Under the leading power of their dark master: Surtur and Fenriz, creature of Loke's own blood With slavering flews to the final disaster ... As Gjallar calls for Ragnarøk ... As Gjallar calls for Ragnarøk Garm breaks his chains and arises from his kingdom The underworld is free to head for the battle As forces of darkness make vanish all freedom While souls of damnation are led like cattle ... As Gjallar calls for Ragnarøk ... As Gjallar calls for Ragnarøk Vigrid, oh mighty Vigrid, sacred fighting ground By thy blood-drenched soil, Evil shall be crowned Vigrid, my mighty Vigrid, sacred fighting ground By thy blood-drenched soil, Evil will be crowned ANCESTRAL PRIDE The Fathers Of Norsemen Will Summon You ! Tyr, oh great and wise warrior-lord You lead our fathers through the mists For their blood will flow in our veins For their fire will fill our heart with pride Glorious were the times when the drekars Appeared in the fjords, determinated To defend faith and beliefs of our ancestors May they strengthen our will to fight His Vastness Tyr Shall Reign His Vastness Tyr Shall Reign "Oh great father of warriors, thou might I ask: Where have gone our brothers in blood? Why have the birds left the Norseman's realm? Who now sits on the Darkland's throne?" "Son Of The Cold Earth, to thou I shall confirm The rising Northland will prepare its tomb If brothers shall not rise their swords and fight To fill their heart with ancestral pride. " " Brothers Unite And Blow The Gjallar! " AS THE NORNS PREDICTED Urd, Werdandi, Skuld foretold A battle, blooded and mighty For the strongest should survive In the clashing of halberds Victory should depend on forged metal On swords, hammers and axes Battleships proudly set sails And clash on the open see Bloodlust should strengthen men's rage Weakness will be their fate Warriors swear oaths to their gods Longing for protection and will Listen to the Norns, they know For they see what noone ever saw The allwise ravens circle over battlefields To tell their oneeyed master That plains are drowned in blood That the rivers are dried up Forests inhale the fading souls Of brave warriors, fallen in battle Territories lost and regained The scepter rules over the hordes And when a northern fullmoon arises The Norns' dark whispers sound: " Strong Thou And Thy Men Shalt Be, To Shelter What's Been Thy For Centuries. And Each Drop Of Blood Thou Spillest, Shalt Stand For Each Dominion Thou Defendest ! "